


skin to skin

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Cuddling and Snuggling, M/M, Schmoop, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where the Wall is too cold and Sam's bed is large enough for two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	skin to skin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [game of thrones kink meme](http://workswithwords.livejournal.com/259929.html). The prompt was cuddling - hey, it's a total legitimate kink. ;) they belong to GRRM, I own nothing, title is from Bruce Springsteen.

Sam tries to avoid complaining about the cold. He hates it, and he figures it’s only natural, since he can’t even remember the winter during which he was born. But considering that everyone except Jon (whether they like him or not) already thinks that he’s a craven or good only for eating more than the average portions, he doesn’t like to complain as a general rule.   
  
So, even if it’s almost the end of his watch and he’s about to freeze, he keeps his mouth shut.   
  
“Fuck this,” Jon mutters a moment after Sam has resolved not to say anything, “I can’t take it anymore.”   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“It’s too cold even for this place,” Jon says again, his breath coming out of his mouth in white puffs.   
  
“Uh. I was thinking the same,” Sam agrees. If Jon, who’s lived in the North all his life, says that it’s too cold, then he’s allowed to complain, too.   
  
Jon sighs in relief when he sees two people coming towards them for the shift’s change. He starts to go back from their post before they have properly switched places, his teeth chattering. Sam looks down at his hands – he doesn’t like how pale they are.   
  
That’s when he gets the idea. It takes him the entire ten minutes from the post to Castle Black for Sam to find the guts to say it out loud, though.   
  
“Jon, uh, I was – I was thinking…”   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“Uh, well, my room has a small fireplace and a bigger bed. And you’re freezing, and I can’t even feel my fingers, and maybe – you know. Body heat. Sharing the same blanket. We’d – we’d warm up faster. But just if – just if you want, I don’t –”   
  
“Sam, don’t make it sound as if it’s the worst thing you could ever ask me. It’s a good idea. And I’d really like to put it into practice now.”   
  
They almost run back to Sam’s small room. Jon kneels down and starts the fire while Sam grabs all the furs that were lying around and drapes them over the bed. He’s tempted to climb in with all his clothes on, but he’s read enough to know that if some of them are wet or humid it’ll only make things worse. He takes off his shoes, cloak and most of the outer layers of clothing that he’s wearing while Jon does the same, and he tries not to glance when Jon takes off his shirt before climbing into the bed. For a moment, when he sees Jon’s well-built frame, he feels self-conscious in ways he has felt more the once. Then he shivers so hard that he forgets all about his weight and his modesty, and he climbs into the bed, as well.   
  
It does moderately work at the beginning. The fire is burning hot and Sam had enough furs lying around, and after five minutes he feels slightly better than in the beginning. But he can feel Jon shuddering on the other side of the bed, so it’s obviously not working as well for him. He tries to come up with a solution, when –   
  
“Sam?”   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“Can you turn around?”   
  
Sam does that, not quite getting what Jon wants to do, and before he even realizes it, Jon is pressing up against him, one arm around his side and his head against Sam’s shoulder. His calves are hooking around Sam’s and damn, Jon feels like a piece of ice, but in a couple of minutes he has stopped shuddering.   
  
“Jon? Uh, is this –”   
  
“Is that a problem?” Jon asks, his voice suddenly sheepish. “I didn’t even ask –”   
  
“No!” Sam exclaims, and that probably gives away how much he doesn’t mind that there isn’t an inch of space between them. “It’s just, well, I didn’t think – no one would –”   
  
Sam doesn’t know how Jon manages to read him so well when he hasn’t even spoken a proper sentence, but before he can gather his wits and try to speak again, he can’t because Jon’s mouth is against his.   
  
Sam is too shocked to reciprocate or do anything, but Jon probably imagines that anyway since when he moves away, there’s a certain glint in his eyes that makes Sam’s blood go from moderately warm to boiling in a moment or two. “Seems to me that no one ever realized that you can be quite comfortable.”

  
Sam knows that his cheeks must flush at that – seriously? – but it’s obvious from Jon’s tone that he’s teasing.   
  
“Second, if you mind I’m going to stop, but –”   
  
“Jon, I don’t. Mind, I mean. I, uh, I really don’t.”   
  
“Good to know then,” Jon replies, smooth when Sam had been barely coherent, but when their lips meet again Sam doesn’t just stay still. Jon’s lips are as soft as he had sometimes dreamed them being (not that he had ever thought that this would ever happen in reality), and his rough hands will probably leave bruises on his hips for how hard they’re gripping, and Sam hadn’t dared even imagine that sharing the bed would end this way.   
  
Jon is warm as well now, and he isn’t moving at all from his position, pressed up against him. Sam doesn’t think this’ll go further – they’re both too tired – but in the morning… the thought makes him shiver slightly, and not because of the cold. A minute later, there isn’t an inch of space between them, Jon’s hands are running over his back, his chin on Sam’s shoulder, and when Sam moves one of his own to Jon’s hair, his fingertips carding through it, Jon hums in approval.   
  
_This is too good to be real_ , Sam thinks, and that makes him stop for a moment. It’s too surreal, it’s too much. Most probably, in a minute or two he’ll wake up just to find that they’re on separate sides of the bed and that this never happened, and –   
  
“Sam? Why did you stop?”   
  
“Why did I – oh. Right. S-sorry. I was… thinking.”   
  
“Sometimes you think too much. And stop blushing, I was… I was kind of liking it.”   
  
“How do you even know? You’re not looking at me.”   
  
“I don’t need to look at you to know that. Stop assuming that I’m having second thoughts. I’m not.”   
  
Sam doesn’t have an answer for that, and so he figures that it won’t hurt if his hand goes back to Jon’s hair again. He gets another hum of approval before Jon falls asleep, and by now they’re warm enough that they don’t strictly need to do this.   
  
But it doesn’t mean that they can’t. It takes Sam a lot longer to finally fall asleep as well, but until that happens his hand doesn’t stop moving and he thinks that if Jon really doesn’t have second thoughts in the morning… well, no one says that this can’t happen more often than just once.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
